Tracksuits
by musicandme37
Summary: When Brendan is moving into Ste's flat he finds a photo of scally Steven and develops a trackie fetish, which he tries to deny...


**I'm supposed to be revising, so naturally, this happened. ****Blame this fic on Kieron and how hot he looks in a tracksuit.**

**For all those fellow trackie and scally!Ste lovers, this is for you.**

**I put the rating as teen...think that's pretty correct for this fic. If anyone thinks it's a bit too mature for teen, let me know.  
**

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"What, may I ask, is this?"

Ste winced at Brendan's words and willed himself to turn around, already blushing with embarrassment, because to be honest, that question could have been about pretty much anything.

Brendan was currently moving his stuff into Ste's flat, and whilst it was possibly one of the happiest days of Ste's life, there was also the risk of Brendan finding embarrassing things that Ste had forgotten were in his drawers, cupboards and wardrobe as they moved belongings about to make room for Brendan's things.

Whilst rooting through the wardrobe, being nosy rather than actually doing any work, Brendan had already found the first gay magazine Amy had ever bought Ste and had been disgruntled that Ste had pictures of naked men that weren't Brendan in his house. Brendan had also discovered a knitted jumper Doug had bought him that had been swiftly tossed across the room in the direction of the bin.

"You do know that we're supposed to be moving your stuff in, not my stuff out, right?" Ste had asked him.

Brendan had shrugged, sniffed and carried on digging into the bottom of Ste's wardrobe, like an archaeologist discovering the lost secrets and items of Ste's life, year by year.

By the time Brendan reached a loose photograph of Amy naked and Ste's cheeky thumbs up beside her, Ste reckoned they'd uncovered quite enough of his past, but then had come the tell-tale line that the beady eyes of Brady had found something else…

"What, may I ask, is this?"

So Ste had winced and turned around, to come face to face with a photograph. "Err…"

It was a photo of Ste, taken by Amy, standing on the swings in the local park, one foot on one swing seat, the other on another, and grasping onto the swing chains between them. He had a cigarette in his mouth, spiky gelled hair peeking out from under his hood, a chain round his neck, rings on his fingers and a grey tracksuit with black stripes down the arms and legs.

Brendan was watching him, lips quirked in amusement, closely watching his reaction.

"Err…" Ste stalled again, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. "Well it's me innit?"

"I can see that it's you, Steven." Brendan said, with a wicked glint in his eye. "But what…" He repeated, his finger now circling Ste's outfit in the photo, "Is this?"

"Well…we all used to dress like that in them days."

"Did we?" Brendan shook his head with a teasing grin, "I don't recall ever looking like that."

"That's because you're old and your fashion of the day was just full-on denim."

Brendan opened his mouth, looking rather outraged, but then he clicked it back shut, that smug smirk melting back onto his face again. "Rather defensive of the tracksuit, aren't ye Steven?"

"No!" Ste crossed his arms tight over his chest, glaring at his boyfriend and unable to stop the pout creeping onto his lips. "I'm not proud of my past, you know that. I were a right scally, me."

"So I've been told." Brendan raised an eyebrow, finally turning the picture away from Ste's face so he could look at it again. "But this…" He flicked the photo with a finger. "Is my first visual evidence."

Ste snatched for the photo but Brendan held it out of his reach. "How old were ye here?" Brendan asked.

"Dunno…eighteen?"

"Aww." Brendan cooed, reaching out to ruffle Ste's hair. "I like your spiky hair."

"Shut up!"

"And the bling."

Ste rolled his eyes.

"Do you still have any of it?"

Ste looked at the Irishman in surprise. "Any of what?"

"The tracksuits? The bling?"

Ste bit his lip. Brendan looked positively gleeful. "You do don't ye."

Ste flushed again. "No."

"You do. Where are they?"

Before he could stop himself, Ste's eyes automatically flicked to the wardrobe and the black bin bag right at the back which had all his old tracksuits stuffed in them. Despite the look he gave the bag being lightning fast, Brendan latched onto the look instantly and leapt at the bag.

Ste tried to get there first, failed, and then sat on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands, waiting for the triumphant mocking.

It never came.

Ste looked up to find Brendan holding out a white tracksuit to him. "Put it on." Brendan said, and it was half instruction, half suggestion.

Ste started in surprise. "You what?"

"Put it on for me. Please."

"Why?"

"I need to see this in person."

"I won't fit in that anymore!"

"You're still a skinny little thing, I'm sure ye will." Brendan threw it to him. "Get changed."

Ste caught it and eyed Brendan suspiciously. "Why?"

"I want to see." Brendan said again. "Please."

Ste huffed, but had noticed the spark of interest and excitement in Brendan's eyes, so decided to comply, intrigued as to where this was heading, and started pulling his clothes off right there and then. "You know, it's not often you're telling me to take clothes off to put more on. Normally you just stop at 'taking me clothes off'."

"True." Brendan hummed in agreement, leaning back against the wall to watch.

Ste stuck his tongue out at him as he wriggled into his tracksuit. He hadn't worn it in about five years. It was weird to be wearing it again.

Once he was in the outfit he held out his arms and spun on his heel to twirl around for Brendan's inspection. "So? Can I get out of this now?"

Brendan didn't reply because he had found a shoebox in the wardrobe with various chains and rings in them; cheap and tacky jewellery so worthless that Ste hadn't even been able to sell them on, so they had been shoved in a box to not see the light of day for over half a decade.

Brendan stalked up to Ste, so close Ste could feel Brendan's breath on his lips, and was surprised when his boyfriend looped a chain round Ste's neck. It was a thick-linked gold-coloured one with a big fake medallion thing at the end of it. Ste wrinkled his nose in distaste, wondering why he ever thought that it made him look cool. He was distracted by his thoughts by Brendan pushing various rings onto his fingers. Ste couldn't help the swooning patter in his heart that was caused by the action of Brendan sliding a ring – even a cringingly cheap one with a coin imprint stamped on the top – onto his finger. The flutter he was feeling was stronger than when Doug was pushing a wedding ring onto his finger, which said a lot as to how much he loved Brendan.

Brendan was watching him, eyes taking in every detail of Ste's face, every piece of distasteful jewellery and every inch of the tracksuit. He ran his hands through Ste's hair, spiking it up in the process, and that was when it dawned on Ste what this was all about.

"So, you into the scallies eh, Bren?" Ste smirked; quick and smug, thickening his accent and fashioning himself back into the cocky façade that he had hidden his true self behind for years.

"I'm into it when it's you. It looks good on ye." Brendan's voice was a low rumble against his lips. "Everything looks good on ye."

"I'm a right looker, me." Ste joked, feigning arrogance. "Who knew trackies would be your turn on?"

"I didn't say they turned me on." Brendan argued so softly that it wasn't anywhere near convincing. "But they are a hell of a lot better than those feckin' knitted cardigans."

"Uh-huh." Ste nodded, unconvinced. Knowingly, he leant forward to mouth in Brendan's ear. "You know, I used to have an ear piercing too."

He felt Brendan's jaw jump against his own.

"I thought so." Ste whispered smugly. "An' you know how I used to steal an' that?"

Brendan nodded against his shoulder. The tracksuit probably smelt really musty from being shoved at the back of the wardrobe but Brendan didn't seem to care.

"Well…" Ste pulled back and held up the wallet he had just eased from Brendan's pocket without Brendan even noticing. "Gotcha."

Brendan grinned in challenge and surged forward to kiss Ste hard, snatching the wallet back whilst Ste was distracted.

"I'm going to have to take photos of you in this outfit sometime."

"Over my dead body." Ste argued. "An' don't you dare reach for your phone!"

"Why not?" Brendan pushed his nose against Ste's teasingly, brushing their lips together.

"Because..." Ste started seductively, his hands beginning to undo Brendan's shirt. "You're gunna be too busy taking me out of these clothes an' fucking me on the bed."

Brendan apparently decided the photos could wait for another time.

x-H.O-x

A week later, Ste came home from work and walked into his bedroom to find a present from Brendan on his bed. It was a brand new, expensive looking adidas blue tracksuit with white striping.

"What the…" He started, before he felt arms wrap around his waist from behind.

"Thought the colour would suit your eyes." Brendan chuckled, before tugging on the lobe of Ste's ear with his teeth.

Ste relaxed back into Brendan's hold. "You really liked the tracksuits didn't you?"

"No, I really liked _you _in the tracksuits."

"Yeah, sure..."

Brendan released him and patted his bum. "Put it on then."

Ste grinned and obliged.

x-H.O-x

"Hi Ste, honey." Frankie said, glancing up from her magazine as Ste rushed into Price Slice. She then did a double take when she looked back up and noticed what he was wearing. The boy was wearing a full tracksuit, the type that he used to wear back when he was a chavvy teenager, with a couple of rings on his fingers and everything - expensive looking ones this time, though. She eyed him up and down as he picked up some big bags of crisps and some beers and then made his way to the till.

"Alright, Frankie?" He grinned at her.

"Change of style, Ste?" She commented as casually as she could as she scanned the items through.

"Yeah. The knitted stuff wasn't really me, y'know?"

Frankie hummed, hoping it didn't sound too much like disagreement. "Looks expensive." She commented as Ste handed her the cash.

"I know right?" Ste looked down at himself. "Bren bought me them."

Frankie refrained from rolling her eyes fondly. Now it made sense. Young love. "It looks like the old you, just more grown up and, well, sensible."

Ste laughed. "Yeah. But don't worry Frankie, I ain't gunna start stealing the pick'n'mix again."

"That's a good job." She actually did roll her eyes this time.

"Anyway, me and Bren are having a movie night, and he'll be back from dropping the kids off with Mike by now so I'd better dash."

"Ok Ste, see you!"

"Bye!"

x-H.O-x

When he got home he found Brendan already back, wearing nothing but his black tracksuit bottoms and reclining on the couch like he owned the place – which, Ste supposed, he partially did now.

"Hey." Ste smiled.

"Nice outfit." Brendan greeted.

Ste rolled his eyes. "Frankie looked like she'd gone back in time five years. She was all ready to protect the till."

Brendan laughed. "You've worn tracksuits plenty."

"Nothing quite like this though." Ste replied, pouring crisps into a bowl. "And I'm only dressed with the rings and everything because it's just us tonight. This is a one-time kind of thing. The trackies I'll keep wearing but the bling...not so much." He carried the crisps and two cans of beer over to the sofa. "So, what we watching?"

Brendan shrugged. "There's an action film on Film4 if you fancy it?"

"Yeah whatever." Ste agreed, passing Brendan a beer and settling next to him. He glanced at Brendan's bare torso. "Got a bit warm?"

"I'm hoping to." Brendan replied slyly, eyeing Ste up even as he flicked through the TV channels.

Ste grinned, and moved his hands to the zip of his hoodie. "Well I may as well join you then."

"Allow me," Brendan flicked on the right channel, put down his beer and widened his legs, beckoning Ste to sit between them, with his back to Brendan's chest.

Ste complied eagerly and allowed Brendan to slowly unzip his tracksuit hoodie and slide it off his shoulders. Ste's polo shirt quickly followed and he then settled back against Brendan's chest.

They watched the film, chatted quietly, finished the crisps and drank several cans of beer. By the end of the film though, Brendan's hands had started to wander and dance over Ste's chest, moving downwards. Ste immediately sat up, further back against Brendan's body to allow Brendan to reach into his trackies.

Brendan tutted, low and sultry into his ear, "Going commando are we, Steven?"

Ste moaned in reply as his eyelids fluttered and he arched up into Brendan's touch.

"I'll tell you something else Steven," Brendan murmured, "So am I."

Ste groaned. "You and your tracksuit fetishes."

"No Steven," Brendan corrected him for the millionth time, "It's not a tracksuit fetish. It's a Steven fetish."

"It's a 'Steven in tracksuit' fetish."

"Ok, fine." Brendan admitted, "I do love it when you wear tracksuits." He then started to work Ste's tracksuit bottoms off his hips and down his thighs. "But right now, I don't want you wearing anything at all."

Ste could work with that.

x-H.O-x

Brendan bought him a whole new wardrobe of 'more tasteful' tracksuits. Ste didn't seem to mind one bit.

Brendan was just glad to see the back of the knitted jumper phase, plus the tracksuits were a turn on.

When Ste suggested that he should get to see Brendan in full denim to make it even, Brendan initially strongly refused.

Ste then offered to wear an entire denim outfit too if Brendan did, so successfully persuaded him.

Ste chose the cheesiest pair of jeans imaginable with flares at the bottom of the legs for Brendan, but Ste got all hot around the collar rather than being amused, so Brendan reckoned he pulled it off.

Brendan chose the tightest denim ensemble ever for Ste. He decided he liked that look on Steven too.

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**The End!**  
**Complete and utter fluffy rubbish I know, but it was hellish fun to write.**  
**Hope you enjoyed and if so please take a min to leave a review, I do love them so.**  
**Thank you for reading!**  
**Right, back to revision...**

**(Disclaimer: I do not own Hollyoaks).**


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